


writhe

by eyemeohmy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sexuality, Squick, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:03:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you're a good boy, when you die, you'll go to where all the good Autobots go. Primus will take you in His arms and accept your apology and clean you of all your dirty, dirty sins you've struggled so hard to purify. Is that right, Deadlock?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	writhe

**Author's Note:**

> Something short with the DJD catching up to Drift.
> 
> This is a birthday ficlet for crashboombanger on tumblr. Thank you, bro, for all those awesome recordings you did of my fanfics! As such, here is what you asked for: something with Drift being tortured with some homoerotica thrown in. Kaon helps supply those quite happily. Though this isn't really gory at all, still gonna give a warning for violence and such.

Each individual power line was strategically placed against and along the most sensitive of equipment and plating. Stretched and thread through hip, thigh, and various other seams between armor and dermal layers; others wrapped and coiled and wound around the body. Each constricting and biting down; metal dented, plating sliced, and those tendrils grinding like hot barbwire into the seams spilling rivets of energon.

As long as Drift kept still, the lines would remain in place; tense and pushing, but they did not tear or grind.

Too bad that was impossible.

"You're doing remarkably well. Not that I expected any less. We've only been playing for five groons."

Drift sucked in warm, humid air through the bit shoved into his mouth. It cut at the edges of his lips, tearing into thin layers of metal.

"But you're such a mess, I doubt you could last another five."

Charred plating, dented, torn armor, coated in both fresh and drying energon; oil and fuel crusting at the edges, occasionally popping to ooze liquid. Drift's single functioning optic staring down at Kaon with raw hate, the edges bleeding cracks of fear.

Kaon smiled, sitting relaxed before the bound former Decepticon forced on his knees. The edges of each line coiled and grinding against and into Drift's body wrapped around his fingers like puppet strings. "And to think," the DJD officer chortled, his fingers slowly and almost seductively curling up around the lines, "I'm only your first session." He tugged them, hard.

Drift forced down a scream that burned into his vocalizer, releasing a burst of static and a low, angry growl. Electricity zapped in streaks of crackling gold through the power lines, pouring into Drift's system. He jerked forward, movement only increasing the pain; his denta bit into the metal gag in his mouth, only for another volt to shoot down his throat.

The electricity died and Drift slumped forward, chassis shaking, fans heaving with a sickly noise. Kaon chuckled and moved a little closer, until he was almost flush against the Autobot. He took Drift's chin between two fingers in rings of wire, squeezed; the peripheral circuits in Drift's face tingled.

"You're lucky I'm so merciful," Kaon purred. He moved closer, face to face now. Drift tried to turn his head, but the grip on his chin and a few tugs on the power lines forced him to stay still. "I'm afraid the others aren't so nice. And Tarn..." He smirked, and Drift felt a chill run down his backstrut. "... Well, you'll see."

Drift glowered, forcing down the fear.

"But you know what that means," Kaon said, quietly. He jerked Drift's head back, earning a sharp hiss. Pressed his face against the overworked throat tubing. "I can't kill you." He nudged nose and the faint edges of his lips against the Autobot's neck.

Drift winced.

"It's rather unfortunate for the both of us, don't you think?" Kaon chuckled, purring against Drift's clenched jawline. "I can't have more fun with you, and you cannot be put out of your misery." His mouth breathed hot air against Drift's audiol. "And you _are_ a miserable little thing."

Kaon lowered Drift's head again. "Your strong sense of 'honor'; your virtuous warrior's strength; your laughable attempt at redemption," he hummed, and Drift shivered as a thin, spindly finger ran down the length of his chest. "How long do you think they will last as you stand before the threshold? Do you believe they can save you?" The Decepticon giggled and placed free hand on the Autobot's cheek, rubbing a thumb in a gentle caress beneath his shattered optic. "If you're a good boy, when you die, you'll go to where all the good Autobots go. Primus will take you in His arms and accept your apology and clean you of all your dirty, dirty sins you've struggled so hard to purify. Is that right, Deadlock?"

Drift felt his fingers shake as they closed into fists behind his back.

"How adorable," Kaon chuckled. "To live in a fantasy world where you can flee from all your problems and face no retribution for the grave mistakes you have made. But a mistake is an accident, is it not?" He tilted his helm, quirking one corner of his grin. "You deliberately left the Decepticons. And you chose to turn your quaint little 'heroic' swords on your brothers. You've found no redemption; you simply chose to take different lives and maybe, juuuust maybe..." Kaon ran a thumb along the bit in Drift's mouth, "you could hide the blood on your hands with more blood, taken out of 'nobility' and 'humility,' to cover that which you once took out of justice."

Kaon shook his head, tsking. "The Autobots may have forgiven you, but I'm afraid those who matter, those who you betrayed, never will," he said. "And on their behalf, we carry out their revenge. And we push their suffering onto you, so you may see all you have done by your acts of treason."

Drift grumbled something in his throat, but it was cut short with another small shock.

Kaon gave a curious expression. "Have you something to say, Deadlock?" He chortled. "Oops. I mean, _Drift_." He leaned forward, turning to place his audiol against Drift's mouth. "Is that an apology, or an empty threat?" The Decepticon snickered and sat back. "Not that it matters. Nothing can save you."

Kaon's hand on Drift's cheek dragged down, fingering one of the gag's straps. "But that's okay, perfectly okay. For me, at least. We still have some time left." With a snap, he ripped out the bit, letting it fall to the ground.

Drift growled hoarsely, his bloodied teeth bared. It took him a minute, but he finally managed to croak, weak but furious, "I'll s-- you in -ell."

Kaon grinned, a burning hand pressed to Drift's inner thigh. "I look forward to it."

Kaon's hand suddenly took Drift's chin in a hard, painful squeeze, pushing thumb and fingers into his jaw. He yanked the Autobot forward, thrust his lips against his. Drift tried to free himself, only for Kaon to deepen the kiss and-- He gasped, trying not to scream, as currents of sharp electricity burst down his throat, much more intense than those from the bit. Kaon kept him liplocked, energon and coolant and oil bubbling and pouring out between their mouths.

Kaon sat back a moment later and Drift heaved, expelling more fluids. The Decepticon just calmly wiped the fuel and energon from his mouth with his hand, tongue licking at the edges. "You're facing the judge and jury now," he said, gently caressing Drift's helm as he continued purging. "But I can't _wait_ for you to meet the executioner."


End file.
